


Not the truth, not a lie

by AwkwardBlueFish



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman - Fandom, DC - Fandom, Red Robin (Comics), batfam - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 19:32:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBlueFish/pseuds/AwkwardBlueFish
Summary: The others had made a game out of it, a game to figure out why Timothy Drake drinks coffee. It would be funny if the reason behind his caffeine intake wasn’t so....serious- no, paranoid.And they call themselves the protégés of the greatest detective. Yeah right.Or the fic where we figure out why Tim drinks coffee





	Not the truth, not a lie

The others had made a game out of it, a game to figure out why Timothy Drake drinks coffee. It would be funny if the reason behind his caffeine intake wasn’t so....serious- no, paranoid.

And they call themselves the protégés of the greatest detective. Yeah right.

To be fair Jason and Damian might not even know what happened, what happened to.... But Tim wouldn’t put it past Talia to fill Damian up with all knowledge, even if it isn’t exactly necessary. And Jason, well, he tried to kill him, he had to figure some things from Tim’s past. Maybe he figured it out, maybe he didn’t. But he’s a bat, he has sources.

Dick and Bruce? They just can’t see it. If they did they would of surely said something by now. Well, maybe not Bruce but Dick? Definitely.

Alfred knows, of course he does. He’s Alfred. The man who pegs the bat down every now and then. That’s why he sedates the coffee, doesn’t ask why it’s always coffee or other beverages instead of that, that one.

Tim takes the milk warm coffee from his grandfather with a smile. At least Alfred doesn’t think of this as a game.

Too bad the others do.

————

“Drake.” Drumroll please! The first contestant is small and deadly and will slice your head off! It’s the son of Batman, The Damian Wayne! Applause for the little demon!

Tim hums dutifully, staring at his laptop screen and wishing for sleep. At this rate he’ll never fill his sleep debt, will he ever? Eh, most probably not. Too muck to do after all.

“Caffeine a day leads to insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, irritability, an upset stomach, a fast heartbeat and even muscle tremors. Why, Drake, do you drink it?” Green eyes narrow at him and Tim can’t help but grin. Count on the demon to throw subtle over a skyscraper.

Shifting on the leather couch Tim tightens the warm blanket around him. Purposely taking a long sip of his coffee, just to see the brat squirm in annoyance.

“Hmm,” he taps a finger to his chin, biting a cheek to hold back a grin, “it can’t be! Can it?”

“Can’t be what, Drake?” The mini Batman glares, a usual frown on his face that Dick usually mistakes for pouting.

“You are worried about me!” Tim cackles as the boy stiffens, face hardening like a rock or drying clay. It’s amusing really.

“Don’t be absurd Drake!” The brat spits, face flaming like fire. Tim snickers at the flushing boy. Ok so the brat may be somewhat cute like this.

“Aww don’t worry little one-“ Damian spits and sputters, arms flailing around, “my body has gotten used to the intake of coffee.”

Tim sees the accomplishment brighten is Damian’s eyes, he feels a little bad about lying. Well he isn’t exactly, his body has gotten used to the caffeine intake but that’s not the reason why he drinks it.

“Very well Drake.” He struts out the room and Tim sighs. Lets the couch engulf him as the fun from that moment leaves him.

The next contestants are going to be harder to please.

————

“Red Robin.” Another drumroll please! The second contestant it tall and deadly! A man who loves books and writes poetry like a second language, a man who makes people pee in their shorts! Please welcome the Red Hood!

“Hood.” Red nods at the figure emerging from the shadows, something pelts at the ready.

He says nothing else and Red accepts the beverage passed to him, sweet sweet coffee. Who knew the red hood had a heart?

Together they sit at the edge of the building, sipping on their drinks in silence. It’s a surprisingly slow and, even more surprisingly, a quiet night. It’s quite nice.

There’s a shuffle at his side and red gazes at the man next to him. The man who once tried to kill him is now a brother, who would’ve thought? The big scary Red Hood has his hood under a arm while he gazes at the city before him. Nights like this make Gotham seem almost peaceful, beautiful. It never lasts long.

“Why do you drink this stuff?” Well he isn’t exactly subtle but he’s doing better than Damian. Hood holds up his paper cup with a frown, eyes flickering over to Reds own cup.

“Keeps me going.” Red answers. Again not a lie but not the full truth.

“Heh, don’t you have a sleep debt to full fill or something?” The man besides him snorts. Shifting so he’s sitting cross legged at a five story drop Red faces his masked brother.

“Yep bit caffeine is my only friend.” Red says, voice purposely solemn. Hood cackles and it echoes through building, a scream comes from an alley.

They snicker and snort because the Red Hood laughed and it made someone scream. They laugh until their sides hurt and until their coms buzz to life.

“Robbery at Fitch street, Hood and Red are closest.” Oracles voice crackles over the coms, scratchy and  
un-distinguishable.

“Copy that Oracle,” Reds on his feet instantly, gravel gun out and flying through the night before the Red Hood can even get in his feet.

The coffee lays empty on the abandoned rooftop. Tim wonders who’s next.

————

“Hey Timmy!” Wow! That’s the loudest drumroll yet! Please welcome the man who is secretly an octopus and has (apparently) the best butt in the world! The older brother everyone adores, Richard Grayson!

Tim whines, and yes it’s pitiful but he doesn’t want to be hugged to sea- to late.

“You’ve got to be more careful Timmy,” he sighs and just sags into his older brothers arms. It’s useless to resist and maybe, maybe he needs the comfort.

“Sorry...” he mumbles and the arms wrap around him more tightly, cutting off his air supply but he doesn’t care. He just closes his eyes and accepts the coffee cup pressed into his hands. It’s sedated, he knows but he doesn’t mind, he cant sleep anyway.

“Don’t apologise little brother,” Dicks voice is soothing, careful and shaky and he can feel tears landing in his hair. And it wasn’t that bad was it? He only got shot three time and they fixed him up right? He’ll be fine.

He makes a sound in his throat and Dick laughs wetly. A shaky hand reaches for the coffee cup that Dick had knocked away when he hugged a little bit tighter.

“Why do you drink this? You need to sleep little brother.” He’s being scolded but he doesn’t mind. Focuses on the question as the sedate begins to work its magic. He’ll be snoring and drooling soon.

“Because you sedate it...” he’s aware of Dicks shocked eyes and he’s also aware it’s not the complete truth. Yes he does drink it because some days it makes him sleep but it’s not the real reason.

Tim’s eyes closes as he falls into a deep sleep.

One person left.

————

Tim shifts over in his bed as Cass sidles next to him. Wiry but deadly arms wrap around him and Tim hugs back as he pull the blanket back up. They don’t talk and Tim doesn’t smile.

Cass presses a kiss to his forehead as Tim fights back tears, his- his mother died today. It’s her anniversary and it makes Tim twitch as water pounds at his bedroom window.

He closes his eyes as he sees his mums ruby painted lips wrap around a glass. She swallows and her eyes roll back and her mouth foams.

She never got a chance.

Her skin rots and she’s too pale, too pale. Her body hits the floor with a doll thud and his father screams and screams into a endless abyss.

Timothy Jackson Drake drinks coffee because his mother died drinking water.

She never stood a chance.


End file.
